Chapter 3
Vinge has not yet woken when I rise for the day. Daylight has broken and everything outside, including my windows, is covered in a glistening frost. I put more wood on the fire, ladle soup into a bowl, and swallow it before I get cleaned and dressed for the cold weather.
I leave bowls and spoons on the table for Vinge, and more alvea sprigs should he need them. Then I pick up my bow, my quiver, and my pack, step out of my cabin, and start the trek to the Springs.
My breath clouds in front of me and the chill prickles my skin wherever it’s exposed. I walk at a brisk pace, unwilling to leave Vinge alone for too long, but determined to keep yesterday’s promise to the Maidens. If not for me, then for Vinge.
I take the almost-hidden path leading to the clearing that’s always overf
